


just call my name (if you've got a broken heart, you're just like me)

by driedupwishes



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Force Ghosts, Jedi Finn, Jedi Training, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, ships lowkey and can be ignored tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 11:24:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6516568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driedupwishes/pseuds/driedupwishes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey has heard their voices before, but their faces are not familiar. Master Luke, however, doesn't seem so surprised at the additions to their lecture. She isn't sure what they are doing here, but she is sure that Finn's hand in hers is an anchor she is grateful for as the Force moves around her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just call my name (if you've got a broken heart, you're just like me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [treeofworlds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/treeofworlds/gifts).



“How much do you know about the Empire,” Luke Skywalker – Master Luke, as he had grouchily told her to call him – asked. Rey bit the inside of her cheek, ducking her head, because she knew not much at all; that the Empire had risen, the Republic had fallen, and they had been defeated by the Rebellion. Beside her Finn shifted, leaning back on his hands with his legs crossed in front of them, a furrow appearing on his forehead as he made a face at the floor in thought.

(“I am _not_ training _anyone_ ,” the old man had snapped, after he’d returned to face General Organa. Master Luke had been just Luke Skywalker then, a bearded, bushy eyebrowed muttering grump who stormed off the Falcon before she could open the hatch all the way, thundering about how he’d been _hounded_  and _tricked_ into coming back.

Rey wasn’t sure when all that had happened. She had arrived, asked him if he was indeed Luke Skywalker, and then had asked if he was coming back. He had said no and she had given him the message General Organa had asked her to deliver, and then he had turned purple in the face and stormed around, collecting his things and marching down to the ship.

Rey had felt a presence, heard laughter on the wind, the sound of someone huffing as if they were right behind her, but there had been no one there.

Upon Skywalker’s declaration, General Organa’s lips had twisted, her hands had come up to plant on her hips. The entire gathering of onlookers had been cowed by that look, heads ducking in waves as the Resistance that were standing around scrambled to be as far away from the woman’s wrath as possible.

Rey had brushed her hand gently against the top of Artoo’s head, hushing his quiet beep gently under her breath.

“Yes, you _are_ ,” General Organa’s had said. She’d nodded toward Rey, who’d shifted awkwardly at the attention, distracted in her search for Finn in the crowd. He didn’t appear to be there, which meant he was still in medical. Her gut had twisted at the thought. “She needs you, Luke. We need you. You’re-“

“Don’t say it,” Skywalker had growled. “Once was enough.”

And that had been when he turned, pinning Rey with a look as bright and burning as a lightsaber, and said, “you will refer to me as Master Luke.”

It hadn’t been how she’d _imagined_ a Jedi Master to be, but she was good at taking what she could get.)

“Well,” Master Luke asked again, sounding impatient. “How much do you know about the Empire?”

“I know what the First Order told me,” Finn said, with a rolling shrug that reminded Rey of the desert’s dunes. She pressed her lips together, ducking her head, leaning sideways against Artoo’s side as she did so. The worn droid hummed and beeped, drawing a look from Master Luke that bent his eyebrows over his eyes before he rolled them, a little dramatically.

He reminded her of Han Solo in that motion and she glanced away from him, looking to Finn again, who was still healing, but _alive_. Finn caught her looking, grinning with crooked lips and white teeth, eyes alight in the afternoon sun, and Rey was smiling back before she could think about it, fingers curling against the grass.

“Oh for the love of-,” Master Luke was tossing his arms in the air, grumbling quietly to herself, and somewhere someone laughed, warm and hearty. Rey glanced around, but there was no one in the area.

“ _Alright_ ,” Master Luke said, grumpily, as he was more often than not. Rey had yet to hear him laugh more than a breathless huff in the two weeks since she’d returned. She wondered if that would ever change. She hoped it did, but she couldn’t tell. General Organa – Leia, the woman had said she could call her, but the name still stuck on her tongue – hadn’t seemed to laugh either. There was a grief shared between them, but also something else, something more.

Every day Rey had more questions, but she was patient. She had years of practice with it, after all.

“The Empire was headed by a Sith Lord named Sideous. At his side was a man called Darth Vader, who-“

“Vader,” Finn said softly. He blinked, then frowned, his face expressive, a way to follow his thoughts. Rey had found she liked watching Finn think, and she shifted, twisting to face Finn just as much as she was their teacher. Behind her Artoo shifted as well, to easier bear her weight, and she patted him fondly in thanks.

“When I was young,” Master Luke said softly when Finn said nothing more, and his lips twisted wryly, the closest to a smile Rey had seen yet. “I lived on Tatooine. One day we bought droids, for my uncle’s moisture farm. You’ve met them both, actually; one of them is incapable of shutting up and frets like his circuits are crossed and the other has an adventurous streak that once rivaled my own and has recently taken a fondness for following you around like a lost little Ewok.” Rey blinked as Master Luke gestured at her and she twisted, peering at Artoo, who’s dome whirled in indignation, lights flashing as he protested the comparison to that of an Ewok.

Master Luke ignored the protests with a flick of his hand and Rey could feel him in the Force, something in the old man coiling as he settled down atop a crate in their ‘training area’, over one of the hills outside the base. He told them the story of how inside Artoo there had been a message, from a captured princess, addressed to a man Luke had never heard of. Artoo had run away, Luke had chased him, and they had been attacked by Jawas. Rey found herself leaning forward, Finn shifting as much as his back would allow, both of them enraptured by the tale as Master Luke described being saved by an old hermit in the desert.

“I had known him as Old Ben Kenobi,” Master Luke said (and someone laughed, low and tumbling, but there was _no one there_ ) and his eyes were sad and dark as he added, “but my father had known him as Obi Wan Kenobi. He was the one the message was addressed to. He told me that my father had been killed in the war by Darth Vader.”

“Oh come on,” someone said, voice warm but exasperated, the ease of the tone practiced. Rey felt something shift, a presence in the Force around them, solid and bright and steady. “I didn’t _lie_.”

Rey jerked. She twisted, distracted from the story, missing what Master Luke said as she scanned the trees, the table they had brought out, the crates, heart hammering as something brushed against her again in the Force. She reached out, blinking rapidly as she did so, because she could have sworn-

No it couldn’t be-

(“ _Rey_ ,” that voice had said; she’d heard it before, that voice had said her name before in the spinning confusion of a vision that still haunted her dreams. “ _Rey_ ,” the man had said, but how had he _known_ -)

“It hadn’t been a lie,” she heard Master Luke say faintly, as if he was far away, and he sounded not quite amused, but something like it. “But the whole story hadn’t been as simple as that. My father was Anakin Skywalker, who had been Obi Wan’s padawan. He had fallen to the Dark Side, which had brought about the end of the war and the end of the Republic, and he after his fall be became Darth Vader.”

“I was lost,” another voice said, just as Rey blinked and a man stepped out from the trees, tall and scarred, with hair curling around his jaw and a mouth that seemed to remember how to smile, even if it was a sad one. He seemed to wear dark robes, his appearance tinted blue, like a relayed holo message or like the glow of the lightsaber on Rey’s belt, but when he stepped forward, brushing against Rey in the Force, he felt like that first warm gust of the desert morning, chasing the chill away. His robes, in the sunlight, melted into brown, the same color of Luke’s own.

“He was lost,” Master Luke said, an echo of what the scarred man had said. Rey blinked, but she couldn’t breathe to speak, couldn’t interrupt to ask _what_ or _why_. “But I found him, in the end. He helped me defeat Sideous, and together we escaped.”

Rey straightened, watching the scarred man’s face flicker with sadness and pride with her heart hammering in her chest as another man, glowing blue the same as the first, stepped out from beside him, his robes brown as well, his hair tousled by a wind Rey couldn’t feel.

“There was too much good in him,” the second man said, his eyes twinkling as he pressed his palms together, the sleeves of his robes falling over his hands. He was looking right at Rey, _speaking_ right at Rey, and she recognized his voice as the one who had spoken first, the one who had said her name.

“Master,” the scarred man said in exasperation, but he was smiling more, eyes sad but mouth curling with a warmth like the sun. The second man ignored him.

“Not even Lord Sideous could squash all of Anakin’s light.”

Rey blinked, the pieces falling into place. She gasped, rocking up on her knees a little, startling both her teacher and Finn with her motion, but she couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop herself as she breathlessly said, “you’re _Anakin Skywalker!_ ”

“Rey- _what_ -“

“Ah,” Master Luke said faintly. He sounded amused and annoyed all at once, a skill he seemed to share with his sister. “So they’ve come to see you, have they?”

“We came to see _them_ ,” Anakin Skywalker’s master said, striding across the grass and sweeping across their little meditation area, for a minute losing his blue glow until he seemed real and human. Obi Wan Kenobi, Master Luke had called him, and she swallowed, because his eyes sparkled, bright with mischief, mouth curling easily as he settled on the crate at her grumpy teacher’s side.

“Um,” Finn said and Rey dragged her eyes from the stationary figure of Anakin Skywalker to see her friend was baffled, mouth hanging open as he craned his head all around the clearing. Rey’s chest tightened and she leaned over, feeling Artoo shuffle behind her to help, until she could grasp Finn’s hand.

“There are two presences here,” she said softly, peering up at Finn’s face as he looked at her. His eyebrows bent, his lower lip pinching between his teeth as he shifted his jaw, trying to focus on what she was beginning to feel more and more. Finn’s face screwed up in concentration, eyes closing, and Rey reached for him in the Force, trying to be his guide.

(“He has. Some talent,” Master Luke said, grudgingly, when Rey had brought him into medical to meet Finn. Master Luke had been more reluctant to train Finn than he had been to leave the planet she’d found him on, which had been frustrating and baffling, because Finn was _so good_ and he had _helped her_. How could he not be trained?

Finn had smiled, sad and small, and shook his head at her, shoulders still with pain.

“It’s okay, Rey,” he’d said softly. “I’ll see if General Organa has a use for me.”

Rey had clenched her jaw, turning on her new teacher with a rising fury she hadn’t felt before, because Finn looked _small_ and that wasn’t _right_ , but Master Luke threw his hands in the air before she could say anything, an exasperated noise bursting from the vicinity of his beard.

“ _Fine_ ,” the old man had said. “We start with meditation in the morning, both of you. _No arguments_.”

“Yes sir,” Finn said, and Rey reached for him with the Force curiously, because his face had been twisted, eyes shining strangely, and when she brushed against him he was warm and trembling, alive and bright, like a star. Finn jerked as she brushed against him, and then, with a flutter of his lashes and a bend in his brows, that warmth in the Force met her gently.

Master Luke had made another noise and left, but Rey hadn’t taken it personally. It seemed to be just something he did.)

“Two presences,” Finn repeated quietly, a question. Rey nodded, squeezing his hand in hers, and she tried to lead him with the Force, tried to imagine taking his hand and reaching over in her head to take Anakin Skywalker’s as well, to bring Finn to him. She wasn’t sure it would work; Master Luke hadn’t taught them anything, really, just lectured them and made them meditate and it had been dull and pointless so far, but Rey had a little experience with following her gut, so she did so now.

And she got to watch Finn’s face go slack with surprise, his eyes blinking open with wonderment, his gaze focusing to where Anakin Skywalker’s ghost – or at least, that’s what she thought it must be, if there was another term for this, _someone_ had neglected to tell them it – had come closer, kneeling on the grass in front of Finn and Rey’s spot.

Finn hissed something under his breath, probably a Stormtropper swear of some sort, as the term wasn’t familiar to Rey, and she watched as Anakin’s gaze slid from the droid behind her to the man at her side, his lips twitching with mirth, momentarily chasing the sadness from his eyes.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Anakin Skywalker said, a mixture of humor and sincerity in his voice. “Finn, right?”

“Uh,” Finn said. He blinked, glancing at Rey, mouth working soundlessly before he swallowed. “Yeah. You’re- you’re _dead_ though, right?”

Obi Wan Kenobi threw his head back and the sound of his laughter arched high above the trees, loud and vibrant, so much so that Rey wondered if General Organa could hear him. Rey watched, enchanted as the man seemed to melt, his posture softening as his shoulders shook, until he was very nearly slouched, hands open and palms up in his lap.

Anakin Skywalker was watching his master, lips curling into a smile so slowly Rey wondered if he was aware what shape they were taking. His eyes were locked on the laughing man and in the Force they both felt steady, like the gaze of the sun on a cloudless day.

“Yes, they’re dead,” Master Luke answered dryly and Finn seemed to flush, head ducking with embarrassment. Rey narrowed her eyes at the old man, because how were they supposed to _know things_ if he didn’t _tell them_ , and when he caught her gaze he rolled his eyes and huffed, much to the amusement of the two ghosts. “But when one dies, they become one with the Force. Sometimes those we lose can return to us this way.”

Rey though of Han Solo, of that moment that had lasted years as his body tumbled from the walkway where his son had killed him, falling down to never be seen again. She swallowed around the lump in her throat, trying to clear it so that she could ask, but something must have given her away, because Master Luke was shaking his head before she could speak.

“They need to be trained with the Force, Rey,” he said softly. “And even then, not everyone can do it. In my experience, it has been only those who want to be seen again that appear, _despite_ , perhaps, you’re reluctance to see _them_ again.”

Anakin Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi shared at a look, one with curling smiles and sly eyes, at the thundercloud expression Master Luke was wearing, aimed somehow at both ghosts without him having to look at either of them. Rey leaned forward, curling her knees up to her chest, hand still comfortably held in Finn’s as she ducked to hide her own smile at the sight.

“Generally, we come as guides,” Obi Wan Kenobi started to explain, but Rey wasn’t listening, exactly, her attention on his former padawan instead. Anakin Skywalker reached out, nearly brushing her shoulder, his blue tinted fingers tracing the edge of the droid behind her. She twisted, but Artoo seemed to only react to her presence, unable to feel Skywalker’s touch. The droid was quiet, however, lights flashing in a muted fashion, and Rey got the distinct impression that he was sad.

At her look, the ghost at her side tried to smile, his sadness keeping his lips from doing more than curl faintly, and Rey couldn’t help herself. “Did you know him,” Rey asked quietly, knowing Master Luke was giving her an exasperated look for not paying attention to Obi Wan Kenobi’s explanation. Anakin Skywalker pursed his lips, sighing softly a little in response.

“Yes,” Anakin Skywalker said simply, shortly. “I did.”

Obi Wan Kenobi rolled his eyes, but fondly, lips smiling as he interjected, “know him? You used to shout at me every time I said something about him.” Anakin Skywalker rolled his eyes then, snorting softly, and his former master continued, “Anakin owned Artoo, back during the war. He was the best kept droid in the whole galaxy during those days, no matter how busy we were supposed to be, fighting for the Republic.”

Rey wasn’t sure ghosts could blush, but if they could, Anakin Skywalker wasn’t certainly trying to find out. He blew out a breath, muttering a quiet, “ _Master_ ,” in a kind of protest, one that Obi Wan Kenobi only answered with a smile, both of their eyes sad as they remembered things from long, long ago. Rey blinked in surprise at the information, twisting to peer at Artoo in a new light. She had known he was an older model, but she hadn’t known he had been quite so important as Anakin Skywalker’s personal fly-droid. Her chest tightened at the thought that he had come so far, lived so long.

“He’s well looked after now,” Master Luke interjected quietly and Rey jerked, startled out of her thoughts about what it must be like, to live so long, to see so much happen. She wondered if Artoo remembered his former owner or if he’d been wiped at some point along the way. She wanted to ask him, but to do so now, in front of everyone, seemed rude.

It was with surprise that she realized Master Luke was nodding at _her_ , something sharp but not dangerous in his eyes, something like _pride_ in his expression as she blinked. Everyone was looking at her and her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“It’s true,” Finn added, squeezing her hand gently. “Rey takes care of Artoo all the time, fixes him up and keeps him out of trouble. Threepio is always apologizing for him, not that he’s been a real hassle. But he’s in good hands, either way. No one knows droids and ships like Rey.”

Rey felt heat flush to her cheeks and she ducked her head, smiling slightly at Finn for his warm praise. There was pride in his expression too, louder somehow than Master Luke’s, and the feeling – the knowledge that Finn, that Master Luke, that _anyone_ thought so much of her…

“Thank you,” Anakin Skywalk said softly, making her jerk her head back to him, and for a second she was overcome with an imagine, a world of chrome, of flying ships, of white stone hallways and colorful lights all over, people in robes wandering around, two of them more distinct than the others, both with hair that caught the lights as a silver and blue droid followed along behind them, whirling and beeping at their backs, as much a part of the conversation as their own voices.

“You’re, uh. You’re welcome,” Rey said shakily, Finn’s worry becoming a tangible thing between them, the Force suddenly pressing in on her, closing her throat around her words. She swallowed, trying to clear it out, push it back, but it was like trying to move an AT-AT wedged in the sand; she was too small, too little, too weak to anything but breathe around the pressure.

“It looks like that’s not all you’ve taken into your care,” Obi Wan Kenobi said, drawing her shaky gaze toward him. He gestured down at her hip, where the lightsaber Maz Kanata had been saving, the one she and Finn had used to fight Kylo Ren.

(The one Master Luke had refused to take, point blank, every time she had offered it to him.)

Rey swallowed around the reminder, because she had _known that_. Maz Kanata had said it had been Master Luke’s, had been his father’s before him, and now her teacher’s father was before her, his droid behind her, eyes blue and sad and endless as the open sky.

“I, uh-“

Anakin Skywalker shook his head, mouth twitching, an almost-smile tucked somewhere in that composed Jedi façade Rey wondered if she ever would understand.

“May it serve you well,” Anakin Skywalker said quietly. “Better than it served me, at least.”

“Yes,” Obi Wan Kenobi said, drawing eyes away from her, taking some of the pressure in the Force away with another laugh, warm and airy. “Let’s hope that you two have a better time keeping a hold of your lightsabers than we seemed to.”

There was a joke in there Rey didn’t understand, a story probably waiting to be told, one they would tell, if Finn or Rey asked them too, but Rey was content to let it go. Maybe another time, she would have been twitching with curiosity, but for now she swallowed around the last of the lump and tried to imagine walls, tried to burrow somewhere in the Force where it would not feel so claustrophobic, so tight and threatening, like she would never escape.

Finn seemed to understand, taking the rest of the focus off her with a squeeze of his hand. “Does this mean you’ll be helping Master Luke train us,” he asked, shifting with a wince. Sitting for so long on the ground with little support was bad for his back, but proper support apparently hurt just as much; lightsaber wounds were not pretty, nor did they heal fast, and Rey felt a wince bubble in her chest in sympathy for him.

Anakin Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi shared a look, speaking without the use of the Force or words, as far as Rey could tell. She wondered if that was something they had learned as ghosts or if they had been like this in life too, but with the image still swimming in her head, she thought they must have been like this in life, two minds connected, perfectly in sync.

“If your teacher is not opposed,” Obi Wan Kenobi said. Master Luke groaned, muttering something about he’d preferred Obi Wan as an old hermit in the desert, but Rey wasn’t really listening, because Anakin was laughing this time, the sound soft but no less vibrant than Obi Wan Kenobi’s, dancing up into the leafs of the trees around them, the sound of it making Rey squeeze Finn’s hand, just to make sure he was still there.

Finn squeezed back, peeking at her through his lashes, and Rey shifted, turning to Master Luke so that he could once again begin lecturing them, feeling the Force ebb around her with more ease.

 

-

 

“Do you think we can do this,” Finn asked her a week later, straddling a chair in medical so that one of the droids could check his back. Artoo had followed them and was beeping at her hip, his humming presence a comfort in the still whiteness of the room.

Rey looked at him, eyes tight with pain, lips pressed together, his eyes bright and alive, and she felt him in the Force just the same, bright and alive but coiled tight with anxiety and pain. She swallowed, pressing her own fears away, reaching for him, in the Force and outside of it, until their fingers were twined together once more, anchoring them both as the droid fussed behind him.

“Yes,” Rey said confidently, remembering the voice in her ear, remembering her name said by a ghost, remembering how alone she’d been, how hopeful and hopeless and _tired_. She nodded at Finn’s look, squeezing his fingers, remembering the weight of his hand in hers that first time, how it had changed her world.

“If you say so, Rey,” Finn said softly, mouth quirking in something like a grin, and Rey laughed, rolling her eyes at the teasing tone lurking there.

“I do say so,” she teased him back, just as softly. Finn laughed, a shoulder shaking sound that ended in a grimace, and the droid gave him some painkillers, tutting at them both as he pulled his shirt back over his head and rose to his feet again.

“Come on,” Finn said, leading the way, hand swinging toward hers but not quite taking it. He glowed a little, like the sunset, even though it was barely midday. “Kenobi said something about starting on lightsaber building now that Master Luke’s got the crystals we need, and I don’t know about you, but next time we face up against the First Order I’d like one of those in my hand. More elegant, y’know?”

“I think Master Kenobi is a little biased on the matter,” Rey reminded him gently, swallowing back a laugh at the face he made. “But it would be nice to see how they’re made; it’ll help me figure out how to fix them better, which will be good.”

Behind them Artoo extended out his wheels, nearly bumping into them as they side-stepped some Resistance fighters trying to rearrange things in one of the hangers, and Rey lifted her face into the sunlight, feeling a sense of purpose shift inside her. Finn laughed a little at her side, his hands moving as he talked, wondering aloud if Master Luke would let them customize their lightsabers, if he could have his green, or blue, or _purple_ , and Rey wondered herself when they would get robes, when they would start training to fight.

They had a long way ahead of them, but they were not alone, and she nodded to herself, no doubt in her this time as she thought, _we can do this_.

She took Finn’s hand in hers easily, squeezing his fingers as he glanced over, smiling at her.

“I think a purple lightsaber would be suit you,” she said quietly, and he beamed, and Artoo whirled a little noise that Rey thought was a laugh, making her laugh as well, until Finn couldn’t help but join in, the sound echoing out into the stars above that endless blue for the whole galaxy to hear.

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOO!!!!!!!
> 
> this isn't q u i t e what I had planned for this, but I was happy to follow Rey wherever she wanted to go, so I hope you enjoy this anyway!!! luv u boobabe <3


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